Harry's Dream
by A Pirate By Any Other Name
Summary: While under the influence of Neville's botched potion, Harry explores the Department of Mysteries and finds a room home to the deepest, most desperate desire in his heart: his parents. And his grandparents, and Sirius and even Remus Lupin. It's a Potter family reunion in this dream world! Companion story to Asphodel, set in Harry's 5th year. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

**Author Note:** I had a lot of questions about what the other students dreamed about while under the influence of Neville's potion in _Asphodel,_ especially Harry, so I decided to write about it. I hope you'll all enjoy!

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**Chapter One**

Blearily Harry opened his eyes. He was sitting on the the floor of a fast moving elevator, leaning up against one of the walls. Above his head, several white paper airplanes were floating. _But those look like..._ Suddenly a cool female voice sounded within the elevator. "Department of Mysteries," she said, and the door to the elevator slide open with a creak. Harry shook his head, trying to figure out what had happened. _The last thing I remember was Malfoy picking on Hermione, and then Neville's potion exploded..._ Harry's eyes widened. This had to have something to do with that! But why was he at the Ministry? And where was everyone else?

Harry realized he was still sitting on the elevator floor and has been for several minutes. Oddly, the elevator door remained open, like it was waiting for him. "Guess this is my stop," Harry said to himself. He pulled himself to his feet and stepped slowly out of the elevator, getting out his wand as he did so. He was relieved to find that he still had it, since he couldn't remember the journey to the Ministry. With a loud clack, the elevator door slid shut, and moved swiftly away.

Now Harry was alone. Cautiously he looked at his surroundings. The hallway he was standing in was the same one he had walked down for his hearing over the summer. Harry shivered a bit at the memory and peered around anxiously, half expecting one of the Wizengamot to show up and cart him away. When no one appeared, Harry decided to venture further down the hallway.

Further and further he went, and still he encountered no one. Harry started to walk a little faster now, and as he walked around, things started to feel more and more familiar. This was just like the dream he kept having, ever since the summer. It was...the Department of Mysteries? _But hang on, that's just in my dreams. But this isn't a dream...is it?_

Harry wracked his brain, desperately trying to figure how he had gotten there. _What were we brewing in potions?_ The Draught of Living Death. _Yes. That's right._ But if he had gotten dowsed with that, how could he be dreaming? He thought he remembered Hermione saying that you didn't dream with the Draught of Living Death. _But if Neville got the potion wrong_...Harry shook his head. None of it quite made sense. He wished Hermione was there to spout off her endless knowledge, or at least be trying to figure out what happened. And he wished Ron was there to make a joke and lighten his mood. As it was, Harry was alone.

He pressed onward. He passed door after door, but each one he tried was locked, even with _alohomora_. Finally, just as he was about to give up on this endless hallway of locked doors, he heard a creak and felt a cool breeze, a draft snaking about his ankles. Harry turned towards it and caught sight of a cracked door. Eagerly he made his way towards it, but stopped suddenly as he reached it.

Harry hesitated at the doorframe. Now this was beginning to feel horribly like a trap. What if he had somehow been kidnapped from Hogwarts? What if he'd had some kind of magical accident and never left his trial over the summer? What if he had imagined everything since then? It was starting to freak him out.

Just when he had decided to turn around and run back the way he came, the door opened behind him and a voice he'd only ever heard in his dreams washed over him. "Harry dear, why are you waiting outside? Come in, your grandad is waiting to see you."

Slowly Harry turned around, not daring to believe what his ears were telling him. He caught sight of the figure in the doorway and his mouth dropped. Standing there, arms outstretched, a big smile on her pretty face, was Lily Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all who have reviewed so far! Thanks also to those who have put this story on their favorites and alert lists. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two**

Harry stood there, gaping at the redheaded woman in the doorway. His throat felt dry and when he spoke his voice came out as a croak. "Mum?" Disbelief and hope filled his voice.

Lily smiled. "Yes, sweetheart. Now come in! The family's waiting."

Harry was too full of emotion to move. Words swirled around in his head, and he found himself speaking again. "Family?" he croaked.

Lily just smiled and beckoned him inside. Harry stared at her, frozen. _This can't be real. She's just a ghost, a figment of my imagination._ But there she was, still beckoning Harry inside. When she saw Harry wasn't moving, Lily reached out and took Harry by the hand, gently pulling him inside the room. Harry looked down at his hand in hers in shock. "You're real!" he exclaimed. "I can touch you!"

Lily laughed, and Harry thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, so different from the terrified screams he had heard for years in his worst nightmares. "Of course I'm real, Harry. Why ever wouldn't I be?"

Disappointment filled Harry. _Didn't she know? Didn't she know she had…died? "_But Mum," Harry said hesitantly, as though he really didn't want to say this but felt compelled to do so, "You and Dad…Voldemort…he killed you, remember?"

Lily stopped and looked at her son with surprise. "Of course I remember, sweetheart. I could never forget it."

"Then how…" Harry struggled to find the right words. "How are you here? How did I get here?" A horrible thought entered into his head. "I haven't died have I?" he asked with some alarm.

Lily's eyes softened and she pulled Harry in for a hug. "No sweetheart, you haven't died. You're visiting us in your dreams. We're always with you." She put a hand over Harry's heart. "In here. That's how you can see us."

Harry's brow furrowed and he looked at his mother in confusion. _I don't understand._ "But I never have dreams like this. The only time I see you is when I dreaming about the night Voldemort…" Harry trailed off. _When I see him murdering you in front of me. Or that night in the graveyard..._

Lily looked pained for a moment, as if Harry had touched upon a subject that gave her great grief. "I know," she said. "I wish I could make it easier for you, but I can't. I want you to know though, your father and I are very proud of you Harry. You're such a wonderful boy. So brave." She smiled at him and held him close. Harry melted into his mother's arms, enjoying the first hug from his mother in fourteen years.

Suddenly a loud voice called from inside the room. "Lily! What's taking so long? Bring the boy in! Let us have a good look at him."

Harry looked up in interest. That didn't sound like his dad; the voice was too grisly, as though it belonged to an older man. Lily laughed and released Harry, who tried not to feel slightly disappointed when she let go of him. "We're coming Francis, keep your pants on," she called. Harry looked at her, a question in his eyes. Lily smiled mischievously. "Francis is James's father. Your grandfather, Harry. He can be a bit impatient at times. Would you like to meet him?"

_My grandfather?_ Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes." A nervous bubble of energy pooled in Harry stomach and he bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following his mother into the room. As soon as he stepped inside, there was a loud shout of greeting and even a bit of applause. Harry couldn't help it. He gaped at the sight before him.

He was standing in a large living room, packed full of familiar looking faces, ones with untidy black hair and green eyes like his, all of them smiling brightly at him. _This is my family. They're real._ Harry suddenly felt like he was eleven years old again, staring into the Mirror of Erised. At once he was filled with overwhelming joy, coupled with a deep sadness. As wonderful as this was, it was only a dream. _But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it_, he told himself fiercely, and walked further into the room.

Suddenly a little old man walked forward and said in the grisly voice Harry recognized as the one he'd heard before, "You really are the spitting imagine of James, aren't you, m'boy? Just be sure you don't get his big head."

"Hey!" said an indignant voice and Harry turned to see his father standing in the corner, next to two other wizards.

"Dad!" Harry shouted. He rushed over and threw his arms around him. His dad hugged him back fiercely.

"It's good to see you son," he said, grinning.

Harry thought his heart might burst. This was simply too good to be true. "You too," he said, feeling a little choked up. Then he noticed the two wizards standing on either side of his dad. They were both beaming at James and Harry. "Sirius!" gasped Harry. "And Lupin! But you're not dead. How…" he trailed off, looking at both wizards in confusion.

Sirius gave him a cheeky grin. "I could hardly miss a gathering of Potters, now could I?"

Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Well no, and it's not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but how are you here?"

It was Lupin who answered. "This is your dream Harry. I'd say it's obvious you consider us as family," he said kindly.

Harry smiled at his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I certainly do," he said.

Beside him, James clapped his hands together. "Well, enough of this touchy-feeling goodness, let's get on to the fun stuff! I hear you're a fair quidditch player, Harry, what position do you play?"

Harry grinned, thrilled to be talking to his dad about his favorite subject. "Seeker, of course," he answered.

James returned Harry's grin. "I knew it! What do you say to a quick match later, son? Think you can best your old man?" Harry didn't have to answer. His enormous grin spoke for itself.

"Don't you be hogging all the time with my son, James Potter!" Lily called over from her place beside sweet looking woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes. Harry looked at them eagerly, wondering who the older woman was. Lily noticed her son's inquisitive gaze and beckoned him over. "Come here, Harry. This is Monica Potter, your grandmother."

"Hello," Harry said a bit shyly.

Monica smiled at him. "Come now, don't be shy Harry dear, come over here and give your grandmother a hug. You do look so like your father James. Bet you would have given your mum and dad a world of trouble, just as my James did with me. Him and young Sirius, troublemakers through and through, dragging poor Remus and little Peter into their schemes." Harry's grandmother clucked her tongue, reminiscing about her younger days. Harry however had frowned at the mention of Peter Pettigrew. He had a hard time picturing him as his dad's friend. _Friends don't betray each other._

Lily noticed Harry's frown and she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Peter wasn't always like the man you know now, Harry. Once he was a quiet and sweet boy, and he adored James and Sirius."

_But it wasn't enough_, Harry thought fiercely. _Not enough to stop him from betraying him._ Lily gave Harry's arm a soft squeeze.

"It's not your fault, Harry. It was your father and I who put our trust in Peter and it was our mistake," she said gently.

Harry looked at her with an anguished expression. "But I let him get away that night before Voldemort came back," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. He had long since been reassured he had done the right thing that night, but seeing his parents now made him feel guilty all over again. H

e had let their betrayer get away. He looked down at his feet in shame. "I should have stopped him, somehow I should have..."

"Let Sirius kill him?" Lily finished his sentence for him. Harry remained silent, too ashamed to say more. Lily put her hands on both his shoulders. "You listen to me, Harry James Potter. What you did that night was absolutely right. Your father and I would not have wanted Sirius to be a murderer, not even to avenge our deaths. You were right to show him mercy, Harry. And remember, it is better to forgive, rather than live with anger in your heart."

Lily looked her son in the eyes, watching her words sink in. Harry held her gaze for a moment, torn between his anger and guilt and wanting to let go. At last he let out a long breath and smiled at his mother. "Yes Mum," he said. Lily smiled and pulled him in for another hug, which Harry glad accepted. _I could get used to this_, he thought happily.

Suddenly a hand clapped on his back, ending the hug. "Alright ladies," said James, throwing his arm around Lily, "It's time for some male-bonding time. You ready for that game of quidditch, Harry?"

Harry grinned. "Absolutely," he said, his excitement building._ I'm going to play quidditch with my dad!_ He looked around the room eagerly. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Right through there," James said, pointing with the hand that was currently around Lily's shoulders. Harry looked in the direction where his dad was pointing and saw a large wooden door he was certain hadn't been there before.

"Are you coming Mum?" Harry asked. _Please say yes._

"Of course! I wouldn't miss the opportunity to see my boys play together," she said with a smile.

"That's right!" James said proudly. He leaned over and placed a kiss on Lily's cheek. "What are we waiting for? Let's play some quidditch!"


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

**Author Note:** At the repeated request of **Leaena13**, I've decided to update his story next. I've got a fun chapter ahead, so I hope you all enjoy! And thanks to all who review and place this story on your alert and favorite lists.

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**Chapter Three**

Harry followed his dad eagerly to the large wooden door. _Where did that come from?_ He frowned at it, because he was certain he had stepped through the only door in the room earlier. But this _was_ the Department of Mysteries. What did he know?

Harry stepped through the door and immediately shouted in surprise. He was standing outside in a huge quidditch pitch, almost exactly like the one he played on at Hogwarts. His dad and Sirius were already up in the air, swooping wildly and whooping at each other like school boys. Harry grinned.

_Now, where do I get a broom?_ As if answering his unspoken command, a Firebolt appeared leaning against the stands on his right. Harry hurried over to it and gasped in amazement. It wasn't just any Firebolt, it was _his_ Firebolt. He shook his head and laughed. _Of course it's my Firebolt; this is my dream!_ He looked up to where his dad and Sirius were flying and shouted after them. "Oi! Wait for me!" He swung his leg over the broom in one smooth, practiced movement and kicked off, realizing suddenly his clothes had somehow also been changed, and he was now wearing his usual red and gold quidditch robes.

Immediately he was filled with the wonderful sense of _freedom_ that came with flying. In a second all his worries about the school year and the Ministry and the Daily Prophet calling him a liar melted away, until the only thing left was a fierce bubble of joy. _I'm flying with my father. And we're going to play quidditch!_ Harry grinned. His cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling, but Harry had never welcomed any pain so readily. He zoomed around the pitch a few times, reveling in the feeling of flying, when suddenly a thought came to him. _Who are we going to play against?_ He turned easily and sped off towards his dad and the others. "Hey!" he called once he was closer, "Who are we playing against?"

It was Sirius who answered, giving his hair a lazy flick. "Them of course," he replied, pointing to the far end of the pitch. Harry spun around and looked in surprise at the sudden appearance of seven players in green. _Are those Slytherins?_ He squinted to try and make out who they were, but as soon as he thought he recognized someone, their face seemed to change. _Weird,_ Harry thought.

"Okay," he shouted down to Sirius. "Then who's playing where?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but James swooped down in front of him, causing him to swerve wildly. Harry laughed. "Sirius, my cousin Rachael and I will be chasers, Remus is our Keeper, and Grandpa Francis and cousin Hal will be beaters. You will be our seeker, of course," James said cheekily. He winked at Sirius, who made a rude gesture with his finger in return.

"Oi! I'll have none of that Sirius Black!" shouted Lily from below. Harry looked down in surprise at his mother, who was suddenly wearing referee robes. She pointed a warning finger at Sirius, who looked abashed.

"You tell 'em Mum!" Harry called, laughing.

"What? You can't side with your mother Harry, I'm your godfather! We boys have to stick together!" Sirius shouted, putting a hand over his heart as if wounded.

"Harry knows his mother knows best," Lily answered, saving Harry the trouble of answering. He watched with a growing sense of contentment as his mother, father and godfather traded banter. _I don't know how this is possible, and I don't care if it is only all in my head. This is wonderful._

"Hey!" Grandpa Francis suddenly called out. "Can we forget this lover's squabble and play some quidditch?" Remus, Rachael, Hal and Harry called out their agreement. _Let's get this started!_

"Alright, alright! Don't get your knickers in a twist!" James shouted, waving his arms up in the air as if to ward them off. Gracefully, he swooped down on his broom and kissed Lily in mid air. There were catcalls from the audience of Potters and a few whoops from the team, including from Harry, who was grinning from ear to ear. _They seem so happy. I wonder if they were really like this?_

Suddenly a whistle was blowing and the quaffle was sent flying into the air, followed by the two bludgers, which immediately set to their task of unseating people, and finally, the tiny golden snitch, which quickly disappeared around the pitch. Harry flew up to the top of the pitch as usual, content to sit and watch the game for a while before looking for the snitch. He kept a weather eye on the other team's seeker though, just in case. He didn't want to lose while playing with his dad. _I don't think I could stand it!_

Harry laughed in surprise as he watched his grandpa Francis take a mighty whack at a bludger and send it careening towards one of the chasers from the other team. _He's got quite an arm for an old man,_ Harry thought, then quickly glanced around as if someone could hear his thoughts. A loud voice suddenly rang through the pitch. "And Francis Potter sends a bludger neatly towards the opposition—nice one, sweetheart!" called Monica Potter. There were more catcalls from the audience, and a loud reprimand from Monica. "Watch who you're whistling at Joseph! You're not too old for me to box your ears! And it's James in possession of the quaffle! He passes to Sirius—such a wonderful boy, always wished he was mine—"

"Mother!" shouted James. Sirius just grinned. Harry remembered his words to him at Grimmauld Place. Sirius had run away from home when he was sixteen and went to his dad's house. _"Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted my as a second son."_ Sirius had been gloomy and depressed over the summer; seeing him here with a smile on his face warmed Harry's heart.

His grandma continued with her commentary. "Sirius passes the quaffle to James, who passes to Rachael, now back to Sirius and again to James, he's going in, dodges a bludger—Hal what are you doing out there, gawking at birds? Watch those bludgers, boy! James is closer, he throws it...and SCORES!" All the Potters in the audience let out a huge cheer. James flicked his hair and bowed to the crowd, winking at Lily, who stuck out her tongue. Harry joined in on the cheering. _Dad is amazing; no wonder I took to flying so well. Look at him go!_ James was flying skillfully around the pitch, weaving in and out of the way of bludgers and the other team's players.

Harry zoned out for a few moments until a cacophony of shouts rose up from the audience. Harry quickly tuned in to Grandma Monica's commentary. "He slips past Rachel and narrowly misses a bludger to the head from Francis. Now James and Sirius move in for a block, but he is too quick—watch out boys!" James and Sirius very nearly collided after moving to block the chaser with the quaffle; Harry couldn't make out who he was but he had hair very like Draco Malfoy's, but James expertly twisted out of the way. It was such an excellent maneuver Harry could help but let out a cheer of triumph. James didn't stop to bow this time however, he twisted around and sped after the blond chaser, shouting profanities as he went.

Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced down at Lily to see if James would get a scolding, but Lily was just as red faced as the rest of the audience, madly cheering on the Potter team. _I didn't know she was so into quidditch. But if she was with my dad, how couldn't she be? _ "How could you miss him, James! He was right there, you could have grabbed the quaffle, if you're lucky Remus will—STOP HIM REMUS!" His mother suddenly broke off in her rant to James to cheer on Remus. Harry spun around to watch, holding his breath as he listened to his grandma's play-by-play.

"After narrowly escaping James and Sirius, he's closing in fast on Remus. Remus looks alert, he's completely focused on the incoming chaser, who shoots and...is blocked by Remus! Well done my boy!" Moncia cheered loudly into her megaphone and the rest of the crowd—_how can they be that loud,_ Harry wondered—screamed their hearts out.

The game seemed to go by quickly after that. Harry watched and cheered with the rest of them as his dad, Sirius and Rachel scored goal after goal. Remus was quite a good keeper, letting only a few quaffles get through to score. Meanwhile, Harry zoomed around the pitch, leading the other team's seeker on a few merry chases after a fake snitch, much to his father and Sirius's amusement. "Atta boy, Harry!" shouted James after Harry pulled out of an incredible dive. The other seeker very nearly hit the ground, but pulled out just in time.

As the score rose for both teams, Harry noticed dark clouds starting to gather around the pitch. _Looks like rain's on it's way. Can it rain in a dream like this? I'd better start hunting for the snitch._ He scanned the field carefully, his sharp eyes expertly sweeping the field. He was confident the snitch wouldn't be hidden for long.

Just when he thought he saw a flicker of gold near the other team's goal posts, fat, heavy rain drops started falling on the field. Like magic, dozens of large purple umbrellas appeared over the cheering crowd, who didn't appear fazed by the rain one bit. With a shout and a wave, James called the team in for a quick time out. Harry took this moment to cast the _impervious_ spell on his glasses, just as Hermione had done for him in his third year. His wet, foggy glasses immediately cleared, making it much easier to see in the downpour. _That sure is a handy spell._

James clapped Harry on the back when he landed. "Now _this_ is a quidditch game, eh Harry?" he said with a grin. He complimented the rest of the team on their fine flying, then turned back to Harry. "It's up to you now, son. You've got to catch that snitch before the other seeker does. And I know you can do it, because you're my son. And frankly, you're bloody damn good flier."

"Hear hear!" shouted Sirius, and the rest of the team echoed him. "Hear hear!"

"You can do it, Harry!" said Hal enthusiastically. Harry gave a quick nod.

"You bet I can. Let's do this."

"That's the spirit, Harry! Now let's end this." James nodded to the team and they all mounted their brooms and soared back onto the pitch, the crowd cheering in their wake.

Once back in the air, Harry searched the pitch carefully, his eyes darting all other the field. _This is one snitch I definitely won't miss._ He snorted as he thought, _at least there aren't any dementors this time. _It took a few more turns around the pitch before he spotted it, hovering near one of the green team's burly beaters. It was darting precariously around his left foot. Harry didn't waste a second. He accelerated and dove for it, heading straight for the beater, whose eyes widened in shock. He swung out wildly at Harry, who easily swerved aside, but lost sight of the snitch in the process.

Swearing under his breath and hoping his mother couldn't hear him, Harry searched the air around them, his eyes desperately hunting for the snitch. _There!_ He saw it speeding off towards their goal posts and he hastened after it. The crowd, catching sight of Harry's obvious pursuit, started cheering him on, with Lily screaming the loudest, only second to his grandma on the megaphone.

"Harry has seen the snitch! He's gone after it like lightning, my word that boy has fast reflexes—I think he's better than you James—"

"MOTHER!" James shouted furiously. Harry grinned in spite of himself, and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Sirius double over on his broom laughing.

The other seeker had caught up with him now, and as the snitch went into a sudden dive, both seekers followed it, neck and neck. Harry gritted his teeth in determination and put on an extra spurt of speed, ignoring the fast approaching ground. The other seeker was looking nervous now, constantly flicking his gaze between Harry, the snitch and the ground. Harry smirked and made no attempt to pull out of the dive. _This snitch is mine._

"Go Harry go!" He heard his mother's shout rise out over the rest of the shouts and it urged him on. He jumped ahead of the other seeker, who was now pulling out of the dive as the ground came closer and closer, only six feet away now...and he snatched the snitch out of the air with just enough time to pull out of the dive with only three feet to spare. The Potters went ballistic.

"HARRY CAUGHT THE SNITCH! DID YOU SEE THAT DIVE, I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT. THAT'S MY GRANDSON EVERYBODY!" As Monica's voice rang out over the excited cheers, Harry laughed and clutched the snitch tightly in his fist, raising it over his head in triumph.

He landed smoothly next to the team, who swarmed up beside him, clapping him on the back. Harry turned towards his dad, who gathered in up in a big bear hug. "That was brilliant son! Your grandmother is right! I think you _are_ better than me! But I've never been more proud or willing to admit it!"

"Well done Harry, that was some incredible flying as usual," said Remus, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Fantastic! Great to actually see you in action instead of hiding in my dog form to watch, eh Harry?" said Sirius with a wink.

Harry grinned, unable to think of a response. His heart was so full of emotion he thought it would burst. He couldn't remember ever feeling this happy and he knew what he would be using to fight off dementors from now on. Then his mother was there, wrapping her arms around him and placing a kiss on his cheek. "You were amazing, sweetheart! I've never seen anyone else fly like that!" Harry blushed.

"Oi, how about a kiss for the rest of the winners?" Sirius said roguishly, sticking out his cheek.

"Hey, that's my wife you're flirting with, mate!" said James, giving him a good-natured shove into the mud. And it all went down hill from there.

Sirius stood up, absolutely dripping in mud, pulling out a large clump of it from his long hair with disbelief. Harry held back a laugh. "Sirius," said Lily warningly, but it was too late. With a shout he threw the clump straight at James, who ducked and let the mud hit Hal straight in the face.

"You're going to wish you hadn't done that, Black!" shouted Hal, who bent down and scooped up a large handful of mud, He sent it flying and managed to catch James on the side of the head. James yelped and hurriedly bent down to gather his own clump of mud and sent it flying off towards Sirius, who quickly pulled Remus in front of him to take the brunt of it.

"Oh, very brave, Sirius," said Remus wryly, but he just flicked the mud off his face and scooped up some of his own and sent it flying.

The situation might have been salvaged had Lily not caught her own face full of mud. From there it was all over. Mud was suddenly flying everywhere, and she had her wand out and charmed little clumps to pelt Sirius periodically, a punishment for starting all this.

Harry laughed and scooped up his own clumps of mud, throwing just as much mud as the rest of them. And even as he caught a large glob of mud on the side of his face, skewing his glasses, he looked around at the group of surrounding him, young and old, equally covered in mud and muck, the rain pouring down around them and smiled. _I've never had a better day._


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

**Author Note:** I just want to thank you for your patience with me...I know I haven't posted for a week or two. I'm hoping this chapter makes up for it! Harry's Dream is coming to an end...

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**Chapter 4**

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left is going on here?"

The mud slinging immediately ceased and everyone turned to look at Monica Potter, who hand marched down to the pitch and was now eyeing them all with a stern glare. She reminded Harry very much of Mrs. Weasley in that moment, her hands on her hips, eyes flashing and speaking in a tone that made boys tuck their heads down ashamedly. Well, all boys except Sirius Black.

"We were just having a bit of fun, Monica," said Sirius, casually flicking his long muddy hair and making sure he hit James in the process. Harry hastily covered up a snort.

"Don't you _Monica_ me, young man! Behaving like a bunch of five year olds, the lots of you! What kind of example is that for Harry?"

"Actually," Harry began, but his grandmother ignored him. _I just had the time of my life._

"But Sirius started it!" burst out James, pointing an accusing finger.

"Way to act your age," retorted Sirius. "Blame it on me. Actually, I think it was _you_ who pushed me in the first place—"

"Which I wouldn't have done if _you_ weren't making eyes at my wife!"

"Oi! Leave me out of this," Lily interjected. Harry and the others tried to hide their smiles.

"That's enough! I don't care who started it, _I'm_ ending it," Monica shouted over all of them. They stopped. "And none of you can go inside looking like that. _Aguamenti!_" Monica pulled out her wand, gave it a large swish, and a stream of water burst from the end of it, showering all the muddy quidditch players with ice cold water.

"That's freezing, woman!" Francis called out.

Monica smirked at him. "Then you shouldn't have been playing in the mud, dear," she retorted. Harry's teeth were chattering, but he laughed all the same. _I've just gotten yelled at by my grandmother,_ he thought, _and I couldn't be happier._

Slowly but surely Monica's ice-cold stream of water rinsed the sticky mud from Harry, James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Francis, Hal and Rachel and they were left shivering on the wet field. With another flick of her wand, Monica sent a blast of hot air flying at them. Harry blinked and laughed at the air sent his already messy hair flying in all directions. Moments later they were all clean, dry and warm. Overhead the rain clouds had dispersed, and the evening sun was peeking through the clouds, sending an orange cast over the pitch.

Monica smiled at her handiwork. "That's better," she said. "Now, who's hungry? I say we all head in for some dinner."

"Oh, yes!" agreed Lily. "I made blueberry pie!"

At that Harry's stomach grumbled. _Perfect timing, Grandma. Mum made blueberry pie? I've got to make sure I get a slice of that..._ He followed his parents and grandparents off the field, towards a thick wooden arch that framed a gravel path, but Harry couldn't tell what lay beyond it. They walked through this arch and suddenly found themselves in the front hallway of a house. Harry shook his head, trying to orient himself to his new surroundings. _Is this was apparation feels like?_

"Shoes off everyone! I'll not have you tracking mud into the dining room," Monica announced over the chaos. There was a chorus of "Yes Ma'am," from everyone in the hall. Harry wondered how they all fit, since it seemed to be a small house, not much bigger than the Dursley's house, but he quickly shrugged it off as the smell of roast beef drifted in from the kitchen.

"The bathroom is just down that hall to the right," Lily whispered into Harry's ear, so you can go wash up." Harry nodded, even though they had just been pretty thoroughly cleaned by Monica. Lily smiled at him and then disappeared into the kitchen with Monica and the other ladies.

"Want to play a game of Exploding Snap, Harry?" James said, sidling up beside him. Harry grinned.

"Absolutely."

James grinned back. "Moony! Padfoot! Let's go. Harry and I are challenging you to a game of Exploding Snap."

"You're on," said Sirius immediately. They hurried off towards the living room. _First quidditch, then a mud fight, and now I get to play Exploding Snap with my dad. Is this how it could have been?_ Harry's heart ached at the thought of it. He wanted this life so much it hurt.

"You coming, Harry?" called James, and Harry shook away his melancholy thoughts.

"Yeah!" he called, and tromped into the living room after his father. James and Sirius had already set up the game when Harry arrived, so he plopped down between Remus and James, a smile of anticipation on his face. Grandpa Francis and a few more of the Potter relatives, including cousin Hal had joined them in the living room. The room was cramped but cozy and there was a buzz of conversation in the air. _This must be what real family gatherings are like,_ Harry thought. The Dursleys never had family over unless it was Aunt Marge, and Aunt Petunia was such a neat freak that things never got out of hand. The only time Harry had ever felt this kind of camaraderie was with the Weasleys or with the Gryffindor House after winning a quidditch game. But even that couldn't compare to the feeling of belonging with his family.

_Too bad they're only a dream,_ a dark part of his mind whispered. For a moment Harry was confused. It all felt so real; it was easy to forget he was only dreaming. He soon forgot these dark thoughts however, as the game got started.

"Oi! No cheating, Remus!" James hollered.

"Don't look at me," Remus countered. "If anyone's cheating here, it's Sirius."

Sirius dramatically put a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Remus, to make such claims against me. I thought we were allies!"

"That was before you were cheating."

"I'm not cheating!"

Harry snorted. "You were totally cheating, Sirius."

Sirius gave an aggravated sigh. "Alright, so I was cheating. But don't think I didn't notice that stunt you pulled just a few moments ago, James," he said, giving James the eye.

"I don't know what you're talking about," James said nonchalantly. The conversation throughout the game sounded a lot like this, with Hal and Grandpa Francis occasionally chipping in to offer advice or urge Harry on. He smiled as his grandpa and father got into an argument about whose wand had touched the card on top first. "My wand very clearly hit the card first, Dad," James argued.

"Don't argue with your father, James, I know what I saw and the point goes to Harry!" Francis crossed his arms firmly over his chest and raised an eyebrow at James, daring him to retort.

"I know Harry's fast, but the point clearly belongs to me," James said, stubbornly refusing to back down.

"Come on Dad, it was one point, can't you cut your son some slack?" Harry joked. _Though the point does belong to me. My wand definitely beat Dad's._

James shook his head. "You can't be given everything in life Harry, how else would you learn?"

"Yeah," Sirius cut in. "If you were, you'd end up like your fathead father!" His eyes flashed merrily and he threw a smug smirk at James.

"Hey! My head is nowhere near fat! Just because I messed up the bubblehead charm one time…" James trailed off indignantly.

Harry turned towards his father, surprised. "You _actually_ gave yourself a fat head?"

"It was an accident! If your mother hadn't been wearing a short skirt that day…" James trailed off, obviously getting lost in old memories of that day.

"Lily's skirt wasn't any shorter that day than it was any other time," Remus commented. James shot him a look, which Remus shrugged off. "Just because you had your head in the clouds any time Lily entered the room doesn't mean it was her fault you messed up the charm."

James's face turned a little red, but he quickly shrugged it off. "What can I say? My dear Lily is a charming woman. Who was I to resist such loveliness?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, James Potter." Everyone turned at the sudden sound of Lily's voice and Harry barely covered a laugh as his father ducked his head, abashed. He recovered quickly though and gave Lily a cocky grin.

"But you love me anyway," he said.

Lily smiled. "Unfortunately, yes. Now clear away this mess and come to the dining room. Supper is served!"

Her words caused a flurry of movement as the boys jumped up and made their way towards the dining room, their stomach rumbling loudly. "That point was still mine though," James said as they walked.

"No way," Harry argued back. "You heard Grandpa Francis, the point was mine!"

"I hate to break it to you son, but your grandfather is old. His eyes and reflexes aren't what they used to be. It's just wishful thinking, I'm afraid," James said mock-sadly, patting Harry on the shoulder.

Harry shrugged him off and gave him a shrewd smile. "So what you're saying is, because you're younger, faster, and-"

"More good-looking," James cut in quickly.

"Right," said Harry wryly. "Because of all that, you must have gotten the point and Grandpa Francis was wrong?"

"Pretty much," said James.

Harry grinned. "Well then, since I am younger, faster and-"

"More good-looking," Sirius added quickly, a large grin splitting his face.

"Right," nodded Harry, his grin matching Sirius's, "The point must be mine!" _Take that, Dad._

James's mouth dropped open. "Well that's just, I mean you can't, I meant…"

Remus clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't hurt yourself, James. Harry clearly has the best of both his parents in him…how can you expect to compete with that?" Harry gave him an innocent look.

"Sweet Merlin, you're right. Look at that, he's got Lily's eyes, and everyone knows I can't say no to that. Fine! I concede." James threw his arms up in the air in defeat.

"Yes!" shouted Harry, pumping a fist in the air. He sobered quickly at the look on his father's face and patted him on the arm. "Better luck next time, Dad," he said, but failed to completely hide his grin.

"Don't push your luck son," James said. Harry, Remus and Sirius just laughed.

When they got to the dining room, Harry saw an impossibly long table sitting in the center of the room, looking like there was no way on earth it should have been able to fit. _I love magic_, he thought with a grin. "Harry dear, come sit next to your mother," Lily said, quickly sweeping Harry aside. "Just there," she said, pointing out a chair near the end of the table. Harry plopped himself down. The smells wafting in from the kitchen were mouthwatering.

James joined in on the other side and Remus and Sirius followed suit. "Best part of the day," Sirius told Harry. "Your grandmother's cooking is to die for!"

"Don't forget my blueberry pie," Lily chimed in. Together with Monica she waved her wand and loads of dishes came floating into the room, the empty ones settling down in front of each person and the ones filled with steaming food coming to rest in the middle of the table.

"Everything looks great Mum, Grandma," Harry said, eyeing the steaming mashed potatoes in front of him. Both women smiled at him.

"Thank you dear," they chorused. The rest of the table hummed in agreement.

It was, in Harry's opinion, the best feast he had ever been to, better even than any Hogwarts feast he'd ever attended. His grandma and mum had gone all out, apparently. There was roast beef and roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, peas, carrots, and Yorkshire pudding. The desserts looked delicious too. Harry spotted his mum's blueberry pie, treacle tarts and fresh strawberries nestled among the dishes. While he ate, Harry laughed and joked with his parents and their friends, listened to stories told by his grandparents, and told everyone about how school was going.

"Do you have a favorite class, Harry?" Lily asked.

Harry shrugged. "I would like Defense Against the Dark Arts if the _toad_ wasn't teaching it. I wish you could have stayed on as our teacher, Lupin. You were the best we've ever had."

"Thanks Harry, but you know why I couldn't stay," Lupin reminded him.

"What about your other classes, Harry?" Lily urged him. "What about Charms or Transfiguration? Potions?"

"Charms and Transfiguration aren't too bad," Harry said, "but Potions is _awful_."

Lily made a confused face. "Why?"

Harry grimaced. "Snape hates me," he said. "And pretty much any other Gryffindor. He's really horrible to Neville. Poor bloke is so scared of him he's always messing up in class. It's why I'm in this dream, I think. Neville's potion exploded, which is odd since Hermione usually helps him out—Snape hates it when she does that."

"It's _Professor_ Snape, Harry, and why would be hate you?" said Lily, reminding Harry an awful lot of Hermione in that moment. _That's exactly what she would say. I wonder where she is right now?_

"Because he's a jealous slimeball, Lily," James said simply. "He hated me and now he's taking it out on Harry."

"You weren't exactly friendly with him, James," Lily scolded.

James nodded his head. "You're right. I was every bit of the arrogant toerag you said I was. The thing is, I grew out of it and Snape didn't." Harry's heart swelled with pride. _My dad is a good man._

Lily pursed her lips but didn't contest it. Instead she changed the subject. "What other subjects are you taking, Harry?"

He swallowed his mouthful of roast beef and thought for a moment. "I've got Divination, which is frankly awful—Trelawney predicts my death nearly every class—History of Magic, which is boring, Care of Magical Creatures—never know what to expect with that one, especially with Hagrid teaching—and Herbology. You can get a good bit of conversation in during that class."

"And you're studying hard, aren't you? Fifth year is when you take your O.W.L.s, and there isn't any reason why you shouldn't get several, Harry," Lily told him firmly. _She sound just like Hermione...and just what I'd expect from my mum._

"Well, " said Harry, suddenly ashamed that he didn't study more often, "I do my best."

"Good." Lily beamed at him and suddenly Harry decided when he got back, he would spend just a little more time studying.

"_Potter."_

Harry head snapped around. _Did someone say my name?_ He listened for a moment more, but the call didn't come again, so he shrugged it off and helped himself to more potatoes. A few minutes later, her heard it again.

"_Potter."_

Harry's head snapped around again, and this time he noticed a window towards the back of the room he was certain hadn't been there earlier. "Did you hear that?" Harry asked James.

"Hear what, son?"

"_Potter."_

"That!" said Harry, looking around for the person saying his name. Everyone at the table seemed to be engrossed in their meal or other conversation. "Someone's saying my name," he said, still looking around. His gaze shifted back to the window and he frowned. "Well, not _my_ name in particular, just 'Potter,' but somehow I know they're talking to me." He craned his neck to look out the old window at the back of the room. It seemed to be growing. _How odd._

"What is it dear?" Lily asked, placed a soft hand on Harry's forearm. He shook himself out of his brief daze and looked at his mother with confusion.

"Was that window there before?" he asked. He gestured towards the back of the room, then gaped as he saw the window was now almost the size of a small door. _It's still growing. Why is it growing?_ Harry felt odd. Suddenly everything around him seemed to be fuzzy, like a channel on the television flickering in and out. The faces of his cousins faded and suddenly the table was much smaller, seating only his parents, grandparents, Sirius and Remus. "Where did everyone go?"

"_Mr. Potter."_

"Oh dear," said Lily sadly.

"It was nice meeting you, son," Grandpa Francis said.

"You're a lovely boy," Grandma Monica said.

"But wait, where are you going?" asked Harry desperately. He was getting a bad feeling about that window.

"Not far," answered Monica, but her voice was fading, just like her. Soon she and Francis just disappeared.

_What's happening? Where did they go?_ Harry's desperation was growing. Suddenly Sirius and Remus stood. "We'll see you around, yeah Harry?" Sirius said. Remus gave a little wave.

"But where are you going?" Harry cried, his voice rising a little in pitch.

"Out," replied Remus calmly. Before Harry had a chance to respond, he and Sirius disappeared, just like Harry's grandparents had. _Why is this happening?_

"_Mr. Potter!"_

The voice was growing more urgent now, and Harry noticed the window had somehow changed into a door. It was open, and through it Harry saw strange shapes moving in the distance in a bright, open room. He didn't like it. _I'm not ready to go back yet,_ he thought.

"I can't go yet," Harry said. He was a little embarrassed to hear his voice crack with emotion. Lily and James smiled at him.

"Come here, sweetheart," Lily said, pulling Harry int a tight embrace. "All things must end. It's part of life."

"But I've only just arrived," Harry whispered, trying to hold back tears.

"And you can visit us anytime, son," James said, wrapping his arms around Harry and Lily. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then the voice echoed even louder than before, reverberating in the room around them, which seemed to be shrinking.

"_Mr. Potter!"_

"We love you, Harry," Lily said and she and James let go of him. As soon as their arms released their hold on him, Harry felt himself being pulled towards the door and the now somewhat familiar voice. Or was it voices? Harry thought the calls were coming form two different people now, one of them sounding annoyingly like Snape. _Trust him to ruin the only good dream I've had in ages..._

"I love you too, but..." Harry trailed off as his parents smiled and waved at him.

"Go on, sweetheart. Don't fight it," Lily told him.

"But I'm not ready! I don't want to go!" Harry cried. His mum and dad smiled sadly, then Harry felt himself pulling pulled violently by the navel and everything turned to blinding whiteness.

* * *

**Author Note (2):** References to Exploding Snap and how it is played was taken from Harry Potter Wiki. According to that page, the rules of the game are thus: "The rules are simple: when you see two identical pictures, hit the card with the top of your wand – one point is yours. The player with the most points wins the game. The hard part is, the cards shuffle faster and faster."


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

**Author Note:** Thank you for all the support on this story and thanks as well to those who have read Asphodel and are currently reading its sequel, Charmed. I hope Harry's Dream satisfied all those who were wondering what Harry dreamed about under the influence of Neville's botched potion. It's been fun! Also, there is a direct quote from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ near the end. You'll know it when you see it.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Mr. Potter, wake up!"

Harry blinked. Everything was white. Spots danced in front of his eyes.

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Pomfrey's voice was urgent. "Headmaster, he's waking up."

"Don't want to leave yet," Harry mumbled. _Where's Mum and Dad?_ He blinked again. There were people moving on all sides of him. _Am I lying down? But I was standing a minute ago…did I fall through that window? Or was it a door?_

"Obviously the antidote works. Headmaster, may I leave now? I have no desire to coddle the boy as he comes into wakefulness," Professor Snape said abruptly.

"Now Severus, you need to be here to make sure there are no more unusual side effects, am I right? The goal here is not merely to wake our students up, but to learn from their experience." Harry couldn't tell, but he thought Snape made a face. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said kindly.

_What?_ Harry couldn't make sense of things. It appeared he was back at Hogwarts. But where had he gone, and how did he get back? Why couldn't he remember leaving in the first place? He wrinkled his nose and looked at the Headmaster blankly for a moment before his eyes widened in sudden realization. "I didn't get any of Mum's blueberry pie!" he exclaimed.

Professor Dumbledore looked startled for a split second before breaking into a wide grin. "I am sorry for that, my boy, as I am certain it would have been delicious. But it was time for you to come back to us." Harry's brow wrinkled with confusion and he stared blankly at Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape, who stood rigidly beside him. _What is going on?_ He felt sure he hadn't been this confused earlier.

"But my mum..." Harry started, but was interrupted by Madame Pomfrey, who had rushed over and was slowly propping him up.

"Come on, sit up, slowly dear, I need to run some diagnostics. Nasty things potions accidents can be," she tutted, waving her wand delicately over Harry's frame. She shot Professor Snape a glare as if it were his fault her Hospital Wing was littered with unconscious students. He merely sneered. _Well, I see that somethings haven't changed._

Harry's vision was clearing now and he realized he was laying in the Hospital Wing, along with what looked like most of his Potions class. He spotted Ron in the bed next to him, wearing an idiotic grin on his face and Hermione across the room, her mouth twisted into a troubled line. Beside her was Draco Malfoy, who apparently even smirked in his sleep. On Harry's other side was Pansy, who had a content smile on her face, and beyond her Harry thought he could make out Neville's chubby cheeks. _Looks like most of the class is here. But not everyone..._

Harry turned towards Professor Dumbledore, who was watching Harry's inspection of the room with an interested look. "Professor," Harry said, his voice cracking a bit, "where is the rest of my class?"

"The rest of your idiotic class has already awoken, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said nastily. "It would appear each of you were effected by a different dose of the potion."

"So I was out longer because I was closer to the explosion?" Harry asked.

Professor Snape's mouth hardened. "Yes, that is the basic idea, Potter."

"Oh," said Harry quietly. He fell silent, thinking back on what he had just experienced. His heart constricted painfully in his chest. _Why couldn't I have been dosed with a larger amount? Then I could have spent another day with my parents..._

"Harry? Are you alright?" asked Professor Dumbledore kindly. Harry looked up and was shocked to feel his eyes burning with unshed tears. Professor Dumbledore looked at him with concern.

Harry cleared his throat, trying desperately not to cry. He certainly wouldn't be able to live it down if he cried in front of Professor Snape. "D-Did the potion have any control over what we," Harry faltered for a moment. _If that was all a dream, does that mean I just made it all up? That my parents weren't really like that?_ He took a breath and forced himself to continue. "Did the potion have any control over what we dreamed about?"

Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a sad look as if he knew exactly what was going on in Harrys mind at that moment, _which_, Harry thought, _he just might. _But once again it was Professor Snape who answered. "So far all the dreams have been unique to the student," he intoned in a flat voice.

"Which leads us to ask Harry, will you tell us what you dreamed about? Professor Snape has been making up a detailed report of this whole event, in case anything like this ever happens again," sad Professor Dumbledore.

Harry gave them all a panicked look. _I can't tell them about my dream,_ he thought desperately. _It's mine. It's all I have of my parents. _He shook his head. He did _not_ want to share what would now be his most cherished memories with Professor Snape.

Madame Pomfrey tutted, Professor Snape sneered and Professor Dumbledore continued to look at Harry sadly. "I know you may not want to Harry, but telling us your dream will help us. He needs to include all the data we can if this report is going to be of any use. I accept that some things must remain private, but surely you can share other parts?" Harry frowned. _I suppose...I don't have to tell them everything._ He nodded.

"Now that we have Potter's blessed permission to hear his visions, can we move on with it? I believe Miss Brown is stirring in the next row." Madame Pomfrey straightened immediately and hustled over to Lavender's bedside, pursing her lips at Professor Snape's cutting remarks.

"Now, now Severus, there's no need for any added pressure. It's never pleasant to share one's memories, as you should well know," said Professor Dumbledore, eyeing him over the top of his half moon glasses. Harry blinked in surprise. He didn't even want to know what _that_ meant. He was just happy to see Snape get told off.

"Indeed," said Professor Snape through gritted teeth. "Right, Potter, I'll be asking you a few questions. You are to answer them truthfully and concisely. Do not lie to me."

_As if you'd let me get away with it._ The longer Harry was awake, the more he felt the warm contentment he had felt during his dream slip away. He sighed. Soon his dream would be nothing but a memory. The thought left him sad.

"Where were you when you first arrived in your dream?" asked Professor Snape.

_Well. That one was easy._ "The Department of Mysteries," said Harry. He didn't miss the sharp look and the gleam of interest in both Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore's eyes when he answered, but he didn't have time to dwell on it before Professor Snape asked him another question.

"And what age were you?"

"Age, Sir?" asked Harry, confused.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, how old were you in your dream, Potter?"

"Oh. Same as I am now. Fifteen," said Harry, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"And when did you realize you were dreaming?" asked Professor Snape, scribbling down something in a notebook as he talked. He didn't even glance at Harry as they spoke.

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, I knew something weird was going on as soon as I got there, so I tried to remember the last thing I did before waking up in the lift. And all I could think about was Hermione and Malfoy arguing, and Neville's potion exploding—"

"Granger and Malfoy were fighting?" interrupted Professor Snape.

"Yeah," said Harry, is anger rising a little. "It's probably the reason Neville messed up—"

"That idiot boy would mess up jell-o," Professor Snape snapped.

"Hey! Neville is just terrified of you, and Malfoy breathing down his neck and bullying him while you're gone wasn't helping either," Harry said back, forgetting who was talking to.

"Watch your tongue, Potter," Professor Snape said in a low, dangerous tone.

Harry opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Professor Dumbledore. "I think we can move on now, can't we? After all, we do want to do this before Miss Brown wakes up, don't we Severus?"

Professor Snape nodded stiffly and gestured for Harry to continue. After throwing a glare at Professor Snape, he did. "I was just thinking that I had to be dreaming, when I heard her voice, and then I _knew_ I had to be dreaming."

"Heard whose voice?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

Harry couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face. "My mum."

Caught up in the memory of his mother's hug, Harry missed Professor Snape gripping his pen so tightly it nearly snapped. "And then?" prompted Professor Snape with a tight, controlled voice.

"Then Mum took me inside to meet the rest of the family. It was like the Mirror of Erised," said Harry excitedly, "only I could touch them and talk to them!"

"And then what happened, Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore, the same sad smile on his face. Harry didn't notice.

_Then the best day of my life happened. _"Then we visited, played quidditch and card games, and had a family dinner. It was just like a real family gathering," said Harry with a grin. He couldn't help it. The mere memory of his dream brought a smile to his face.

"And you didn't try to get back?" Professor Snape asked in the same clipped tone.

Harry looked at him incredulously. _Why would I want to do that?_ "No Sir," he answered.

There was a strange light in Professor Snape's eye that Harry didn't like. He wanted to be finished with this interrogation as soon as possible. "Did you ever think you were dead, Mr. Potter?" Harry couldn't place his tone.

He opened his mouth to say no, but then remembered first seeing his mum. _I haven't died, have I?_ Harry looked down at his lap. "When I first saw Mum and she hugged me, I thought for sure I had died, because there couldn't be any other way for me to see her," Harry said.

"I see," murmured Professor Snape. "Just one more question, Mr. Potter." _Thank goodness, _thought Harry. "What happened when you began waking up?"

"A window appeared on the wall," said Harry. "And it kept growing until it was the size of a door. And I kept hearing someone say my name. Then my family disappeared one by one, with Mum and Dad last." He couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "And I woke up."

Professor Snape's lips tightened even more, and he jotted something else down in his notebook. "That will be all, Mr. Potter," he said briskly and then quickly strode away to where Lavender was just waking up. Harry pitied her. _Professor Snape really isn't who I'd like to see first thing in the morning... _That thought brought another to Harry's mind. He turned towards Professor Dumbledore.

"Professor?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, "What day is it?" He saw Dumbledore's eyebrows raise and he quickly amended his statement. "I mean, how long have I been asleep?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Two days, Harry."

Harry was astounded. _Two days? But it I was barely there for one day. More of an afternoon, really..._He was startled from his thoughts by Professor Dumbledore's voice. "Time in dreams passes much differently than in our waking thoughts. It does not surprise me in the least that time appeared to pass much slower for you."

Harry was silent. He couldn't think of much else to say. _Seems to me time went just a little too quickly._ He looked over at his still sleeping friends and a bit of longing filled him. If only he could have stayed asleep just a little bit longer...

Professor Dumbledore caught his gaze and shook his head sadly. "Remember what I told you, Harry, in your first year, after you found the Mirror of Erised?"

Harry looked up at him, coloring a little under Dumbledore's scrutiny. "Yes Sir," he said.

Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a look over his glasses. "I will repeat it anyway, for wise words should never only be said once." He cleared his throat. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Don't forget that Harry. Dreams are wonderful things, but never trade them for the true wonder of living."

Harry nodded. "I understand Sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "I knew you would. Now if you'll excuse me, I must go and greet Miss Brown, who I believe has at last decided to join us. You are welcome to stay for a while Harry, or if you wish, you are free to return to your dormitory."

As he left, Harry pondered over his words. The smiling faces of his parents and grandparents and Remus and Sirius floated in his mind, and he smiled. _Dreams really are wonderful things. _With a jolt he suddenly remembered Sirius, cooped up at Grimmauld Place. _He would love to hear about this._ Harry threw aside his covers and pulled himself out of bed. _Dumbledore's right,_ thought Harry as he changed out of his hospital gown. _Sirius is alive and could probably use some cheering up. Instead of dwelling on what I can't change, I should cherish what I have._

Harry hurried towards the hospital door, giving Ron and Hermione one last glance before he left. _Hope your dreams are as good as mine, _he thought, then rushed from the hospital wing. He had a letter to write.


End file.
